That knowledge aroused a dull rage in him. His cheeks flushed, his eyes
glowed with it.

But Warden's smile contradicted his thoughts. He managed that so
cleverly that many men, watching him, might have been deceived.

In Lawler's keen eyes, however, glowed understanding--a knowledge of
Warden's character that vindicated the things he had heard about the
man--the tentative suggestions that Warden was not a worthy successor to
Lefingwell.

That knowledge, though, would not have bothered him, had he not seen in
Warden's eyes something that seemed to offer him a personal affront. As
quickly as Warden had veiled his eyes from Lawler, the latter had seen
the dislike in them, the antagonism, and the rage that had stained his
cheeks.

He had come to Warden's office with an open mind; now he looked at the
man with a saturnine smile in which there was amused contempt. Assuredly
the new buyer did not "measure up" to Jim Lefingwell's "size," as
Blackburn had suggested.

Therefore, aware that he could not meet this man on the basis of
friendliness that had distinguished all his relations with Jim
Lefingwell, Lawler's voice was crisp and businesslike:

"You're Gary Warden?"

At the latter's short, affirmative nod, Lawler continued: